


Back to the future

by orphan_account



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 20 yr old Yuuri is in 24 yr old Yuuri's body, 24 yr old Viktor is in a 28 yr old Viktor's body, M/M, Plot Twist, REVERSE TIME TRAVEL AU, Reverse time travel, but yeaah, ugh i hit caps lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-07 01:57:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 8,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11048907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Yuuri was older for some reason, inViktor Fluffing Nikiforov's apartment,and is now coached by, again,Viktor Fluffing NikiforovThere was something seriously wrong in his life.





	1. April 22, 2017

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor is a sound sleeper, and Yuuri wakes up with the dawn.

Yuuri was tangled in the sheets, and he seemed in no hurry to get out of them. They were warm, and unusually heavier than normal. The room was silent, peaceful, and there was nothing to worry about.

Odd.

Yuuri didn’t hear any of Phichit’s hamsters’ squeaking, but maybe they were all asleep?

Yuuri found it strange that all of Phichit’s beloved hamsters were asleep at the same time, but he was grateful for the undisturbed silence.

It felt so refreshing.

Then he remembered.

 _Celestino would_ kill _him if he was late today._

So Yuuri pushed back the sheets, but soon gave up. The sheets weren’t budging. They’d formed a tight cocoon of cloth and trapped heat, and Yuuri wasn’t all that keen to get out of the sheets cocoon.

Let Celestino kill him today. Yuuri knew that he needed music for his free skate _today_ , but the bed was just so _warm and soft and cozy._

With a groan, he turned on his side, expecting to be facing a wall of Viktor posters.

(Yuuri had his wall of Viktor posters, and Phichit had his wall of varied skaters)

(And the King and the Skater merch  _everywhere._ )

He was instead greeted by Viktor Nikiforov’s face right next to his.

Yuuri’s eyes widened to the size of saucers and he covered his mouth not to scream in surprise.

Then he also realized that he did not feel pajamas on his body.

Yuuri’s alarm increased by 200,000,000,000%.

He was in a stranger’s bed, with _Viktor Fluffing Nikiforov, naked,_ and had no idea why.

Yuuri slowly creeped out of the bed and walked around, trying to locate a mirror to see himself properly.

He found three full-sized ones in the bathroom and turned this way and that, scrutinizing himself.

Yuuri looked the way he usually did, nothing out of the ordinary.

But he was a bit more slimmer, a little more lean and sinewy.

Yuuri moved closer, nose nearly touching the mirror to inspect his face.

Not that soft, a little more confident-looking.

Yuuri noticed how red his neck was in the mirror, peering at it to see the cause.

Oh.

There were bite marks.

Yuuri glanced down at the rest of his body, noting more hickeys scattered everywhere.

 _Where had_ those _come from?_

Yuuri licked his dry lips and found them to be puffier.

He slowly walked back to the bedroom, on the hunt for his glasses and phone. Viktor was still sound asleep, silver hair glinting in the sunlight.

It felt like his vision was worse than yesterday, and when Yuuri finally found his glasses on the floor, the sheer thickness of the lens confirmed his hunch.

Now that he had his glasses, Yuuri looked around the room, especially at the articles of clothing scattered haphazardly around the room. He pulled on some boxers he found in the dresser which were strangely in his size, and a pair of jeans from the drawer below.

(Which were in, again, his size somehow)

Yuuri looked everywhere in the room for his phone, and he found it on the bed stand.

He turned it on, and glanced at the time before concentrating on the date in smaller text below the time.

April 22, 2017.

And that was the moment Yuuri decided to scream his lungs out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh it feels so good to get this out of my brain and onto a laptop!  
> I've always wondered in time travel fics where the past Yuuri and or Viktor go,  
> So this fic was birthed!  
> Feel free to strike up a conversation in the comments, because I am always willing to talk. Seriously. I don't even care if you start ranting about your day. Anything can do.  
> Yell at me on tumblr about Yuuri!!! On ICE at @Miraculous-Holder!  
> <3


	2. A rude wake-up call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor wakes up obviously from Yuuri's dinosaur screech.

Viktor was woken up by a screech.

Not the most unusual way he’d woken up before.

He sat up, squinting at the bright sunlight and bringing a hand up to shield his sleep-begging eyes.

Viktor dimly registered that he was naked, there was a odd coolness on his ring finger, and there was a warm spot next to him on the bed.

Chances are, he’d find the person who was with him from the previous night in the kitchen.

Then Viktor’s eyes caught on the handsome, sexy, shirtless man near the bathroom door.

 _Hot damn._  
It seemed that the man was responsible for the rude wake-up call, as Makka couldn’t scream like that.

It was just logic.

(Viktor Logic)

Viktor opened his mouth to speak, only to find it dry and slightly bitter from morning breath.

“Who are you?” Viktor yawned, his other hand coming up to cover his mouth, morning breath hitting him full force.  _Ugh._

“Katsuki Yuuri,” the man-no- _Katsuki_ muttered, tapping frantically at his phone. He let out undignified squeaks at some things, apparently giving up on whatever he was doing on his phone.

“Uh, I think that I should be leaving. . .” Katsuki trailed off, pointing at the door.

Viktor pouted, pushing his bangs away from his eye to look at the beauty in front of him.

“Stay,” he whined, tilting his head and giving it a shot at puppy eyes.

Katsuki, for some reason, froze suddenly and looked like he’d just seen a ghost. Viktor heard him mutter something in a different language under his breath.

“Uhm, Viktor-senpai . . . I think that you should turn around.” Katsuki breathed, eyes wide.

Viktor stretched, arms spread as he turned, craning his neck to look at what got Katsuki so weird.

That’s when he saw it.

A picture of him and Katsuki and Makkachin, at the beach with sand all over them and him and Katsuki bumping noses so adorably.

Viktor almost visibly jumped.

He looked around the room, now noticing more picture frames with him and Katsuki in various places and in various poses.

“What is this?” Viktor wondered, running a search through his twenty four years worth of memories for anyone that looked like Katsuki.

Viktor certainly would’ve remembered someone like Katsuki, even with his selective memory.

Viktor stood up, sheets falling onto the floor. Katsuki immediately got painted in a blazing red blush, and looked away.

Viktor pretended not to notice, and pulled on some briefs from the dresser that wasn’t there yesterday. He saw his phone laid in the mess that was his bed stand, and scooped it up, dimly registering the time.

There. In the smaller font- why was it April, in _2017?_

His phone was malfunctioning, it was glitching, it had betrayed him. Maybe it was just a lockscreen prank from Georgi.

Viktor didn't realize that he'd thought out loud.

“Um, it’s no joke. It’s really 2017, even I didn’t believe it, Viktor-senpai.” Katsuki confirmed quietly, looking down at the hardwood flooring and twiddling his thumbs absentmindedly.

“You mean that we’ve been transported to the future?” Viktor spluttered, running his hands through his (it felt like it was thinner) platinum hair.

“Yeah.” Katsuki admitted.

It was now Viktor’s turn to screech inhumanely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yess part two!  
> Viktor does not know that Yuuri is the stranger's name, not Katsuki.  
> This is so fun to write, you have no idea.  
> There'll be two more updates today, I hope if I get my research done. So look out for that!  
> Feel free to strike up a conversation in the comments, it's summer and I'm lonely.  
> Yell at me at tumblr about yoi at @Miraculous-Holder!  
> 


	3. Put a ring on it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri finds out vital information.

Yuuri was a nervous wreck.

First, he’d woken up naked, in  _ Viktor Nikiforov’s bed. _

Second, he and Viktor were in the future.

Third, assumingly Future-now-transported-into-the-time-Past-Yuuri-lived-in-Yuuri’s relationship with Future-now-transported-into-the-time-Past-Viktor-lived-in-Viktor was comfortable enough to have sex with each other.

Yuuri pinched himself hard enough to leave another red mark on himself.

It  _ had _ to be a dream.

Not to mention, Yuuri had screamed when he’d turned on his phone to check the date (Which was four years in the future for him) and the scream had woken Viktor up.

Yuuri had also called Viktor senpai. 

There was something seriously wrong with his brain. 

And now Viktor screeched when he realized that both he and Yuuri were in the future. 

Yuuri winced at how inhumanely loud Viktor’s voice could get.

Yuuri also discovered that, while he was scrolling through newsfeeds, that Viktor had become his coach. Apparently, future Yuuri had gotten gold at Four Continents, a silver at the GPF,  another gold at Worlds, and yet another gold at Nationals.

What had happened in four years?

Meanwhile, Viktor’s long screech had faded away, and he was going around the room, looking at all the various pictures scattered around.

Yuuri pressed two fingers to his brow in a feeble attempt to curb the growing headache. 

A flash of light glinting off of something on Yuuri’s hand caught his attention. He lifted his left hand, and there was a shiny gold ring sitting on it.

And that was when Yuuri panicked. For the second  time that horrible, yet amazing, day.

“Uhm . . .Viktor-senpai . . .can you check really fast if you have a gold ring on your left hand?” Yuuri mumbled, multiple scenarios rushing through his brain to fill in the blank that was why he had a gold ring on his _left hand._ _Where marriage rings go._

Viktor made a little sound of confusion, but he checked his hand nonetheless.

“Yeah, I have a ring on my left hand.” Viktor mused. “Why are you asking?” 

“No reason,” Yuuri lied. He had to check if his hunch was true of not.

Yuuri opened the bedroom door.

“I’m just gonna look in the living room,” he called out, and Viktor nodded absentmindedly.

“Okay.”

Yuuri stepped out into the hallway, and was blown away by just how many pictures were on the walls.

Did the other Yuuri and the other Viktor just take pictures of themselves every second throughout the day?

Yuuri was looking for something in particular. He pulled up Instagram, and was scrolling through the vast number of pictures Future Yuuri (Or would it be Past Yuuri now?) had posted.

(The full count of pictures was 9,274 pictures total on Yuuri’s account.)

Yuuri soon gave up on the futile task, seeing that future him and future Viktor  posted selfies like it was breathing.

Instead, he went onto Google, and typed in Viktor Nikiforov/Katsuki Yuuri wedding, and held his breath while it brought up results. 

Google asked if Yuuri meant Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov/ Yuuri Nikiforov-Katsuki wedding, and Yuuri’s eye twitched in disbelief.

He and Viktor Nikiforov were married.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay finished with my research!  
> Finally.  
> Or at least, for today.  
> But yeah, Viktor's gigantic freakout is a given when he finds out that he and the hot stranger are married.  
> Again, feel free to strike up a conversation in the comment section, since it's summer and I'm lonely as merde.  
> My tumblr is @Miraculous-Holder, if you want to yell at me about YOI.  
> <3


	4. Luckiest man on earth.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor finds out that Yuuri and him are married, and promptly gets crushed by a poodle.

Viktor heard another scream similar to the one he woke up to.

He hurried into the living room, where Katsuki was standing statue still, his hand shaking.

“Viktor-senpai!” Katsuki babbled, eye twitching.

“What happened?” Viktor asked, frantically searching for the cause of the scream.

“Uh. . .this article.” Katsuki admitted, holding his phone out for Viktor to look at.

* * *

 

**Omg my two gay skaters are finally planning a wedding!**

By miramiraonthewall

Posted: Two months ago

Omfg did you hear?

Yuuri got gold. Two, to be specific.

You all know what that means.

He and Viktor are set on the wedding train!

Yuuri just moved to St. Petersburg, and now they’ve been tweeting about their wedding plans.

Apparently, it’s in literally two weeks. We don’t know where it is, because everyone would crash the party.

But we have a good idea of who’s invited to the wedding, and what’s gonna happen.

**Read More**

* * *

 

Viktor stared at Katsuki (Wait, no. His name was Yuuri and his last name was Katsuki. He’d been saying the hottie’s name wrong all this time) _at Yuuri_ in disbelief. This had to be a dream.

“You’re joking.” Viktor stammered, running a hand through his more noticeably thinning hair.

“Nope. I found pictures.” Yuuri confirmed, going to photos and tapping on the ‘Wedding with bae ♥’ folder. Viktor took the phone from him, scrolling rapidly through the various photos, all featuring him and Yuuri.

“Holy shit.” Viktor breathed, not believing his luck.

The nice, sweet, awkward, handsome, and unbelievably talented in ice skating stranger was his freaking _husband._ As in until death do us apart. “I’m the luckiest person on the Earth.” he muttered, shaking his head in shock.

Viktor handed Yuuri (His _husband_ ) back his phone.

He whipped out his phone, and slung an arm around Yuuri, who yelped in surprise. Viktor pressed a quick peck to his cheek.

Yuuri looked like his soul had departed his body.

“Smile!” Viktor beamed, taking a selfie as fast as humanly possible. Yuuri seemed a little taken aback at Viktor’s actions.

“Hey, our future-past selves posted selfies every second they could.” Viktor justified, with a shrug.

Suddenly, Yuuri was driven backwards by a flying mass of brown, and crashed into Viktor, the trio all piled up on the couch. Viktor was crushed.

“Ugh.” Viktor groaned, the air knocked out of him.

Meanwhile, Makkachin had promptly decided to make a kiss-fest on Yuuri’s face, and was licking everywhere.

Yuuri was laughing, the thoughtless man.

“Can you two possibly get off of  me?” Viktor asked in a breathless voice, sounding half crushed.

Yuuri wriggled, but in the end couldn’t get Makkachin off. Yuuri sent an apologetic look to Viktor.

Makkachin obviously decided to stop crushing Viktor and rolled off of Yuuri, with a soft ‘boof’. Yuuri climbed off of Viktor, who was finally able to breathe again.

“Sorry about that.” Yuuri apologized, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

“It’s all right.” Viktor grinned, feeling that he could get used to waking up every morning to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh sorry this took a long time to do since it was delayed so much, gomen!  
> My tumblr is @Miraculous-Holder, if you want to yell at me about how badly written this chapter is.


	5. Operation: Seduce Viktor.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri spills to Phichit.

There was a ping from Yuuri’s phone.

He peered at it, confusion clouding his expression.

“Hey, Viktor-senpai, do you know anyone named Yurio?” Yuuri asked, tapping on the contact picture and showing it to Viktor.

“Not really . . .” Viktor trailed off, then squinted at the picture. “Wait a moment. I think that’s Yuri Plisetsky! He joined the skate club like nine years ago, and he’s twelve! Yuri hasn’t changed that much in four years, though.”

“That doesn’t explain why I have him saved in my contacts as ‘Yurio’.” Yuuri said.

“Maybe I just decided to nickname him that so I wouldn’t get confused with you two,” Viktor mused, tapping a finger to his chin.

Meanwhile, Yuuri was typing out a reply to Yurio(?).

“How does ‘Hey, sorry, but Viktor and I are taking a day off today’ sound?” Yuuri questioned, prepared to hit send.

“Good.” Viktor agreed, opening a cabinet and grabbing some dog food.

Another ping sounded out instantly, and Yuuri read it aloud.

“You and the idiot need to get your asses here right now. Yesterday you took a day off. If you’re not here in fifteen minutes, I’m telling Yakov that you two fucked each other so much that Katsudon can’t walk.”

Viktor’s hand shook, ending with a small replica of Mt. Everest on the floor made with dog food in the kitchen, which Makkachin gladly cleaned off.

Yuuri was deceased.

“Did our future-past selves screw each other that much?” he croaked, not able to simply understand the fact that the future him was screwing future Viktor Nikiforov without a second thought.

Yuuri scrolled up in the texts between him and Yurio, and found that once every week, he or Viktor would ask for an extra day off because of the same reason.

“I’m pretty sure, yeah. You didn’t see the bottle of lube on the bed stand? Or the two other empty bottles of the stuff in the trash can?” Viktor called out, dumping the rest of the dog food Mt. Everest in said trash can.

Yuuri was deceased and had ascended to heaven.

“I need to call Phichit-kun and ask him about some stuff.” Yuuri said, clicking on the green phone icon next to Phichit’s picture.

The silence in the swanky St. Petersburg apartment was only broken by the ringing of Yuuri’s phone, and to be honest, Yuuri found it quite awkward.

 _“Yuuri! How are you?”_ Phichit’s familiar voice chimed, cheerful as ever.

“I’m good, thanks. You?” Yuuri replied, relaxing.

 _“I’m great! So, how did Operation: Seduce Viktor go?”_ Phichit asked, voice playful and knowing.

“It went great, I guess?” Yuuri tried, not knowing exactly what Phichit was talking about in the least.

_“Yuuri. It either sailed or failed. Which one was it, Yuuri?”_

Yuuri blanched. “Sailed?”

 _“That’s what I like to hear. Is there anything else that you called me for, other than O:SV?”_ Phichit inquired, apparently picking up on the tone of Yuuri’s voice.

“Yeah, actually, now that you mention it. Um . . .” Yuuri hesitated.

_Should he or should he not tell his friend his problem?_

Yuuri went for spilling it all to his friend.

“Actually, I’m not the Yuuri you’re so familiar with.” Yuuri said.

 _“What are you talking about? I know you, Yuuri Nikiforov-Katsuki. Don’t you dare try to deny it.”_ Phichit pointed out, voice tinged with hurt.

Yuuri backtracked quickly.

“No! It’s not that, it’s more complicated.” he explained, not really sure how to convey it.

 _“Then what_ is _it? Yuuri, I’m your best friend. You can tell me anything.”_ Phichit reassured, confused now.

“Okay. I’m actually the Yuuri you knew in 2013, and somehow the Viktor Nikiforov from 2013 has been transported four years into the future with me.” Yuuri revealed, unsure of how his friend would take it.

There was a clunk on the other side of the phone, and loud laughter that was definitely Phichit’s.

 _“Oh my god, Yuuri! You scared me to death. I actually thought that something really bad had happened, but then you tell me this! I’m actually rolling around on the floor crying with laughter.”_ Phichit burst, and Yuuri could swear he heard him smile.

“I’m serious, Phichit-kun. Would I joke about that?” Yuuri reprimanded.

 _“No, but still, aren’t you happy? You’re married to the man of your dreams, you’ve won Worlds and Four Continents and got silver in the Grand Prix finals, which is way higher than what I got.”_ Phichit said enthusiastically, taking it better than Yuuri expected. Then again, Phichit read enough time-travel books and fanfiction for him to be able to believe it.

Yuuri was glad he had a friend like Phichit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gahh I'm sorry for offering only badly written chapters!  
> Also, if you find me not updating two chapters a day, feel free to yell at me or do something to remind me and give me that kick in the butt.  
> I'm just as forgetful as Viktor.  
> <3


	6. Pure gold, nothing less.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor has a sister, and is good at cooking.

Viktor was hopelessly falling faster for Yuuri Nikiforov-Katsuki.

And he only knew him for less than an hour.

Honestly, he felt jealous of his future-past self, since he had more time with this angel on Earth.

He’d heard Yuuri confess to his friend, and how  _ relaxed  _ Yuuri sounded when he talked to . . . what was his name? Pichitoo? Pinchit? Pikachu?

Either way, Viktor felt the rumbles of jealousy build in the pit of his stomach, then realized that Yuuri couldn’t be with a single person other that Viktor.

They were married.

Viktor’s shoulders slumped with relief when he realized that Yuuri was already with him, he just needed to woo Yuuri.

One sure-sound way to a man’s (or woman’s) heart was through food.

Which was why Viktor was making kasha, humming softly as he opened cabinets and pulled out buckwheat oats and other various ingredients.

Soon enough, the delicious smell of it began to infect the apartment, dragging Yuuri to the kitchen, asking what Viktor was making.

“Kasha.” Viktor simply replied, adding a pinch of salt.

“Which is. . . ?” Yuuri prompted, peering over Viktor’s shoulder to observe his cooking skills.

“It’s a breakfast food.” Viktor said, grabbing two bowls and deftly scooping some kasha into both. He stuck a spoon into each and carried the steaming bowls to the table, setting them down.

Yuuri sat down opposite of Viktor, spooning a bit of the oats up and blowing on it softly, eating it carefully.

Viktor was dying from the suspense.

“So, how is it?” he asked, tasting his creation.

“Good!” Yuuri chirped, nodding for effect.

Viktor melted into a puddle right there mentally, because Yuuri was so  _ adorable  _ when he smiled like that and it was giving Viktor heart palpitations. 

Viktor sneaked a picture of Yuuri while he was turned away, and posted it discreetly under the table with the caption ‘Breakfast with the Bæ and I made kasha too! ♥’.

Instantly, his phone was pinging non-stop, and Yuuri was looking at me weirdly.

“Did you post that picture you took of me when you thought I wasn’t looking?” Yuuri asked dryly, eyebrow raised playfully.

Viktor turned beet-red.

“Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly, shoveling kasha into his mouth to keep himself quiet.

Yuuri snorted at that, like a flat out pig snort.

This time,  _ he  _ was the one to turn red.

Viktor’s husband was gold.

Pure gold, and nothing less.

The happy silence was broken by Viktor’s phone ringing. 

His sister was calling, which was weird, since it was six in the morning for them, and she  _ never _ woke up before seven.

Viktor accepted the call, and was greeted by a cheerful greeting in French .

“Salut, Vik-Vik! Comment ça va? Je vais bien, merci. Alors, au sujet de votre voyage ici, Vous allez la semaine prochaine, n'est-ce pas?” his sister asked, the reason for her being awake at an ungodly hour revealed.

Apparently, future-past Viktor and future-past Yuuri had planned a trip to Paris, France to meet Viktor’s family.

Oh, it was so long since Viktor saw them.

It would be nice to catch up with his parents.

“Yuuri!” Viktor called out, holding a hand to the mic of his phone to block his inhumanely nosy sister out. “Get packed, we’re heading to France!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the delay!  
> Apparently, cleaning out the house took longer than I expected.  
> And also, I'm looking for a beta reader, anyone ready to volunteer?  
> And Viktor is already in love <3  
> Well it did only take literally two seconds for future-past him to fall in love at the banquet.  
> And not to mention, he _still_ had pictures of the banquet, and probably asked Chris or Yuri to send extras to him.  
>  So when Viktor was looking through his phone, Viktor would've seen those pictures and how happy he was with Yuuri, even if that wasn't him truly. That's when he started to really like Yuuri and decided to woo him.  
> Okay. I forgot to put a translation for Viktor's sister's French.  
> Translation: Hi, Vik-Vik! How are you? I'm good, thanks. About your trip here, you're coming here next week, right?  
> I used Google translate for some of it, so if anyone knows French, please feel free to correct me if i'm wrong.


	7. Shower problems with a side of Antarctica.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri has shower problems.

Yuuri faintly heard Viktor call out something about packing and heading to France.

He found a picture album lying around the living room and was flipping through it, sitting on the couch with other discovered albums next to him.

Yuuri stood up, running a hand through his disheveled hair, trying to comprehend the craziness that was his life.

  1. Yuuri woke up next to Viktor Nikiforov. _Naked._
  2. Yuuri and Viktor Nikiforov were transported from the past into the future.
  3. Viktor was a very good cook.
  4. He’d also not added any clothes except black boxers.
  5. They were going to France. Country of love.
  6. Yuuri had already fallen fast for Viktor through his cooking.



Yuuri was done for in his life.

“I’ll take a shower really fast,” Yuuri said, walking towards the bedroom, which had a bathroom attached.

“Want me to join?” Viktor joked from the dining table, looking up from his phone, with a playful grin.

Yuuri choked on air.

“I’m good, thanks.” he replied, turning and shooting a wink to Viktor with a smirk.

Yuuri turned so he wasn’t facing Viktor, and was squeeing in the dark fanboy corner of his brain that was dedicated to Viktor Nikiforov, because he’d just flirted, in a way with Viktor.

Yuuri slipped off his pants and boxers and stepped into the shower, blanching on how the shower worked.

_ Well, fuck. _

Yuuri tried everything.

Toggling, twisting, pulling, pushing, whatever he could do.

Nothing worked.

Eventually, Yuuri gave up.

“Uh . . . Viktor-senpai? Could you possibly tell me how your shower works?” Yuuri called out, embarrassment tinging his voice.

“You just gotta twist it to your desired temperature and pull,” Viktor replied, and Yuuri could practically  _ hear  _ the smirk in his voice.

_ Well, fuck him along with this godforsaken shower. _

Yuuri tried Viktor’s instructions, along with every variation possible of it.

Nothing worked.

“Not working.” Yuuri updated, hand still moving and trying to find the shower’s weakness.

“Should I come over there and help you?” Viktor asked, and instantly Yuuri knew that Viktor had given him the wrong instructions. Or at least omitted some magic trick to get it working.

Something had gone wrong.

“That would be nice, yes.” Yuuri confessed, red painting thoroughly.

Viktor slipped into the bathroom, and promptly started laughing.

“I said twist  _ then  _ pull, not pull then twist!” Viktor snorted, doubling over with laughs.

“I got it. Now shoo!” Yuuri glowered, swiftly turning the water on (It hadn’t heated, so it was Antartica-level cold), and unhooking the hand shower head from its place and spraying Viktor relentlessly. 

Viktor yelped in surprise, then made his way out of the bathroom without slipping on the puddles of ice-cold water.

Yuuri felt accomplished.

He had stopped spraying Viktor, since the water had heated and was relaxing in the soothing hot water against his skin.

He was also stuck in a shower with all of the toiletries in Russian.

Granted, Yuuri could speak slight conversational Russian, but it wasn’t like he could decipher between the shampoo and the hair remover or who knows what.

And what was that? Hidden behind all of the soaps and whatnot

. . . There was a bottle of lube hidden behind the various bottles.

Yuuri had given up on trying to understand or feel jealous of his future-past self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh i feel horrible for updating a day late  
> My mom and sister dragged me into rewatching a Telugu movie which they know I hate.  
> Well fuck them.  
> Not to mention, yesterday was not a good day, and as a result, I couldn't bring myself to type.  
> Sorry.  
> But good news!  
> I have an instagram!  
> So if you want updates on why I can't add a chapter, check that out (@ice_dansa) or my tumblr (@Miraculous-Holder) to see why a chapter was delayed.  
> <3


	8. Teal shampoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri can't tell the difference from shampoo and hair remover.  
> Viktor doesn't help.

Viktor didn’t mean to flirt with Yuuri that blatantly.

No, it was involuntary, and Yuuri got his revenge, too.

Viktor was soaking wet in only briefs, with Makkachin to accompany him.

Not to mention, he was freezing cold, too.

His apartment had two bathrooms, but one was with a shower and the other without.

And currently, Yuuri was occupying the bathroom with a shower.

“Viktor! I need your help! What does this mean?” Yuuri yelled, the sound of water falling accompanying his voice.

“What does what mean?” Viktor mumbled, burrowing down into Makkachin’s fur, trying to hold in the quickly escaping heat.

“I need you to check this label!” Yuuri called, frustration gnawing at the edges of his voice.

“Later.” Viktor replied, with Makkachin in the proper way that kept the heat balanced properly and Viktor did not want to move one bit.

_ “Now.” _ Yuuri demanded.

“Apologize.” Viktor demanded right back.

“For what?” Yuuri retorted, incredulous.

“For spraying me with ice-cold water!” Viktor protested hotly. 

“You deserved it.”

Viktor scoffed at that.

“Good luck figuring out the hair remover and the shampoo.” Viktor called out, deadpan and completely serious.

“If I’m going bald then you’re going bald with me, old man!” Yuuri threatened, and Viktor swore he could hear his eye twitching.

That did it.

“All right, all right. I’ll help you.” Viktor gave in, walking in the bathroom where a confused Yuuri was standing covered in steam and holding two bottles.

Yuuri let out a sound of relief.“Thank you! I was contemplating not washing my hair at all, since I couldn’t understand a thing on these labels.” Yuuri said, running a hand through his hair.

Viktor leaned against the wall.

“I’ll tell you what’s what. First, apologize.” he demanded, crossing his arms and staying rooted to the spot.

“Nope.” Yuuri refused, and crossed his arms in defiance.

“Don’t blame me if you end up bald, sweetie.” Viktor drawled, not budging. 

Viktor was known for being stubborn as a mule.

“Fine. At least I’ll have more hair than you do.” Yuuri shot back, turning around to face the shower wall with a ‘hmph’.

Viktor’s mouth fell open in shock.

His husband was incredible.

And was fine with hurting Viktor’s feelings, too.

“Fine, fine, fine.” Viktor sighed, his palm hitting his head repeatedly. “The green one is the shampoo and the teal one is the hair remover. The purple and black one is the conditioner, and that little blue box is the sugar scrub.” 

Yuuri nodded jerkily, his back still to Viktor.

“Thank you.” he stated coldly.

Not as cold as the water Viktor was doused in.

“Thanks? That’s it?” Viktor wheedled, trying to worm an apology from Yuuri.

Yuuri was stone solid and wasn’t relenting.

“Is there anything else?” Yuuri asked, acting ignorant to what Viktor wanted: an apology.

“No.” Viktor admitted, head hanging down in disappointment. He gave up.

“Sorry.” Yuuri muttered, squirting a dallop of shampoo into his hand and massaging it into his hair.

Viktor beamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean for this chap to be exactly 500 words.  
> I love writing stubborn! Viktuuri with all of my nonexistent soul.  
> <3


	9. Grocery spree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri is a fashionishta.

Yuuri was showered, and was rifling through the various clothes inside future-past him’s side of the dresser while Viktor was taking his shower.

And to be honest Yuuri admitted that his future-past self had pretty good fashion taste.

Or maybe that was just Viktor buying everything.

Yuuri had a feeling that it was the former.

Soon enough, he decided on a soft, woollen pastel pink sweater that was three sizes too big and artfully torn black skinny jeans.

Yuuri also decided that he was ditching his glasses for that day, and was using contacts.

But the moment Yuuri realized that he had to put something into his eyes willingly, he chickened out and retreated back into the safety of his glasses.

But it was somehow already noon, and Yuuri decided that it was  _ his _ turn to cook something.

Yuuri went through Viktor’s pantry and couldn’t find anything familiar.

Plus, it was pretty bare.

_ Well, there went his plan to surprise Viktor. _

“Need help?” Viktor asked from behind Yuuri, and Yuuri nearly dropped the box of (he assumed) pasta.

Viktor was in a pair of jeans and was shirtless, toweling off the water residue on his hair.

Viktor stopped still in his tracks.

Yuuri froze.

“Um. . . you look good.” Viktor breathed, eyes wide.

Yuuri ducked his head down, blushing.

“Thanks.” 

“About lunch. I’m too lazy to teach you how to read Russian ingredients, and there’s nothing in here that I can make a meal with. What do you say to eating outside for today, and going on a grocery spree?” Viktor asked, while checking the pantry and fridge for anything edible.

Yuuri cleared his throat. “Are you coming shirtless?”

Viktor was flaming red. “I’ll put a shirt on.”

When Viktor walked back into the kitchen with a shirt on, he looped his arm through Yuuri’s and pulled him through the door, quickly locking it and running down the stairs, Yuuri in tow.

Yuuri was doing his best not to trip and fall flat on his face, with Viktor running down the stairs like he was in a marathon.

“Slow down,” Yuuri complained, when Viktor nearly made him face-plant for the third time in a row.

And they said that the third time in a row was the charm.

(Ridiculous.)

“I’m getting my revenge from the Antarctica  treatment.” Viktor simply replied, shooting a devilish grin to Yuuri.

Yuuri wanted to push him down the stairs, but refrained. 

But it wasn’t like Viktor could’ve gotten much of an injury falling down three stairs.

Viktor dragged Yuuri to his car.

Of  _ course _ Viktor would have a pink Cadillac.

Of course.

Yuuri sat down in the passenger seat, while Viktor turned the car on and was backing out of the parking lot.

Soon enough, they were driving to some Italian place that Yuuri couldn’t pronounce the name of.

Viktor pulled him out of the car, and was tugging him inside. Yuuri didn’t protest. 

Much.

Yuuri gave it some credit  _ only  _ because it smelled good.

Also, he was hungry, and wasn’t about to argue with Viktor’s taste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Yuuri's outfit  
> so he gets it  
> <3


	10. Lemon mousse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor loves Italian food.

Viktor had a feeling that Yuuri had no idea what to order.

So he took charge.

“A voz'mu chesnochnoye rizotto, i on voz'met to zhe samoye.” Viktor said, handing the menus to the waiter with a practiced smile.

“What did you order?” Yuuri asked, leaning forward.

“Garlic risotto. This place is famous for it.” Viktor replied with a grin.

Yuuri shrugged. “As long as you’re not trying to poison me, I’ll eat it.”

Viktor chuckled. “Not picky, are you?” he quipped, taken aback at the shadow that fell across Yuuri’s face.

“You want picky? Your kasha had some uncooked parts, and the-” Yuuri  started, only to be cut off by Viktor.

“Got it, Mr. Chef. I know, I’m not the greatest cook in the world, but I make it work.” Viktor stated, drumming his fingers against the table.

A nearby waiter came by and filled the glasses with water, Yuuri taking a sip after she had left.

“I’m a lot of things, Mr. Nikiforov, but I’m not a chef. I’m a cook, yes, but I’m not very good at making a dish pretty.” Yuuri said dryly.

“It’s not Mr. Nikiforov.” Viktor corrected, with a smirk.

Yuuri sighed. “What is it now?” 

“It’s Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov.”

And at that moment, the waiter swung by with two steaming plates of the restaurant’s specialty risotto.

“Enjoy.” she smiled, before swishing to another table.

“Eat it. It’s better than my food.” Viktor prompted, fork frozen mid air an inch from his open mouth.

Yuuri poked at it suspiciously. He slowly stabbed a small piece and brought it to his mouth, bracing for something.

Instead, he moaned softly, shoveling more into his mouth.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Viktor asked smugly, an even more smug grin plastered on his face.

“Very.” Yuuri agreed, nodding.

Soon enough, the risotto had been reduced to nothing, and Viktor had planned lemon mousse for dessert.

“Viktor! We’re skaters, we can’t gain too much weight!” Yuuri reprimanded, declining the mousse.

Viktor pouted, slumping, and his puppy eyes on full display.

“Just today?” he pleaded, and Viktor could tell that Yuuri wouldn’t be able to hold out any longer.

“No.” Yuuri repeated, crossing his arms.

“Come  _ on,  _ Yuuri. Please?” Viktor begged, putting every possible bit of adorableness into his puppy eyes, because the lemon mousse here was  _ heavenly _ and just melted in your mouth.

“Nope.” Yuuri replied. 

“Okay. Compromise-” Viktor tried.

“No.” Yuuri cut off, adamant.

“Yuuri, just try it out for me. Please?” Viktor asked, ready to call over a waiter.

“Nope.”

“Please?” Viktor pouted. “Not even for me?”

_ Aha. _

_ Found your weakness, wall Yuuri. _

“Fine. One. Just for you.” Yuuri sighed, facepalming repeatedly.

“Nooo. We’ll share it.” Viktor suggested, because Yuuri never had the lemon mousse and he absolutely needed to try it before he died.

Yuuri turned a bright red.

“I’m fine, Viktor.” he protested, but Viktor wouldn’t have any of it.

The dessert was ordered and placed at the table, and Viktor spooned up a bit, chasing around Yuuri’s clammed up mouth to stick it in.

“Open up, just try it!” Viktor muttered, and Yuuri finally gave up and Viktor stuck the lemon mousse morsel into his mouth.

Yuuri melted a second time into his chair.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg this is already at ten chapters.  
> I feel so proud.  
> <3  
> Also, it's been so effing long since I've been to Olive Garden, so Viktor shares my love of lemon mousse.  
> <3


	11. Lychee candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor has never been to the international market.  
> Yuuri is a cook.

Yuuri is falling, falling, falling.

And he’s pretty sure that he doesn’t want to get up.

Viktor was everything and more.

Sweet, handsome, sassy, cute. What’s not to love?

Viktor refused to let Yuuri pay for lunch, stating that it was ‘his treat’.

Yuuri protested, but Viktor held fast.

And they were back in the car, driving around St. Petersburg because they had nothing better to do. Viktor had picked up Makkachin from the apartment, and Makkachin commandeered the backseat.

Viktor was driving everywhere, declaring that Yuuri had to see  _ this _ , and had to see  _ that _ , and Yuuri definitely had to see  _ this  _ and take a picture with it.

Yuuri felt like a tourist with an over-enthusiastic tour guide.

Which, in a way was somewhat accurate.

It was 1:30 p.m. by now, and Viktor wasn’t stopping the flow of St. Petersburgian tourist sites.

Yuuri felt a bit tired, and wondered if he could get jet-lagged time traveling.

Because if his math was correct, it was about five in the morning in Detroit.

And Yuuri made a point never to wake up before 5:30.

It was the time everyone at Yu-Topia woke up, and Yuuri had followed that schedule longer than he hadn’t. 

Plus, Yuuri faintly remembered marathoning the King and the Skater with Phichit the previous night, when he was still in 2013.

And they’d gone to sleep at two.

Slowly, Viktor’s enthusiasm began to seep into Yuuri’s exhaustiveness, and it felt like a cup of coffee re-energizing him.

Also, Makkachin liked to try and crawl into the space between Yuuri’s and Viktor’s seat, and it was adorable when he reached forward and accidently changed the station.

And Viktor would huff in annoyance, and change it back to the original station.

And Makkachin would reach forward and change it again.

Yuuri laughed a little, reaching back and rubbing Makkachin’s head. “You know, Viktor, whatever happened to that grocery spree you promised?” 

Viktor froze. “Right. Let’s just go to the park, and after that, we’ll go on our grocery spree.”

“I’m making dinner.” Yuuri promised, planning out an authentic Japanese meal.

Ramen?

_ No. Too . . . teenager. _

Katsudon?

_ We had enough calories today. _

Sushi?

_ Too cliche. _

And that was how Yuuri asked Viktor to stop at what he assumed was the international market.

Yuuri exited the car, pulling Viktor out with him.

Makkachin was asleep, and Yuuri had an intent.

He was making fried rice, and had plans for dessert.

Viktor wasn’t the only one who knew sweet.

Yuuri had a feeling that Viktor had never been inside this store, since Viktor was oohing and aahing at fruits that Yuuri would’ve seen every day if he was back in Japan.

And Yuuri wasn’t surprised when Viktor picked up a bag of lychee candy.

Yuuri faintly remembered eating those when he was younger.

“Yuuri! Look at this! These smell so good, and anyway, what’s a lychee?” Viktor asked, prodding Yuuri. 

Yuuri was meanwhile scrutinizing a pile of carrots.

“A lychee is a fruit.” he answered, picking a carrot up and turning it slowly. Yuuri deemed it good, and put it and a few others in a bag and set it inside his shopping basket.

“Well, I got that part.” Viktor said, putting it in the basket and wandering off again.

Yuuri picked up some varied vegetables, running through an age-old recipe passed down through the Katsuki Family. 

Yuuri hunted down Viktor, who was in the baking and desserts section, and dragged him to the checkout counter, ringing up the various ingredients and paying for it.

“Come on.” Yuuri whined, while Viktor was staring, transfixed at everything.

Viktor thankfully snapped out of his stupor and was pulled into the car by Yuuri, Makkachin waking up with a ‘boof’.

Yuuri turned to face Viktor.

“Where else are we going?” Viktor asked, when they were they were on the road.

“To your apartment. I’m making a Japanese dinner.”

Yuuri grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> # ANNOUNCEMENT:
> 
> #  This update might be the last one for about a week or so.
> 
>   
> 
> 
> ##  my competition is about to come right up, and it's international, so I'm researching pretty hard. I will try my very best to write on the plane, but I make NO guarantees.
> 
>   
>  Please don't kill me.  
> <3


	12. Sic him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri is also a good cook.

Viktor wasn’t sure what to make of Yuuri.

Good cook (Hopefully), cute (Omg, his sweater was too much), sarcastic, sweet, stubborn, hot, and a hell lot more.

Currently, Yuuri was commandeering the stove, pulling things out of the three bags filled with things Viktor had never seen or heard of in his life.

And the kitchen smelled  _ heavenly. _

Yuuri had forbidden Viktor from entering the kitchen or even going near him.

Because Viktor was ‘distracting’.

Ridiculous.

But Viktor could faintly hear things sizzling and Yuuri moving about the kitchen, acting like he knew the place, when Viktor was banished to the living room.

“Yuuri! Am I allowed back into the kitchen?” Viktor called from the couch, with a peaceful Makkachin laid on him.

“Not a chance.” Yuuri said, resulting in an indignant scoff from Viktor.

“Please?” Viktor begged, wanting to know what magic Yuuri was concocting in his kitchen.

“No. You’re gonna distract me.” Yuuri retorted, shooting a death glare at Viktor, who groaned and went limp on the couch.

“You wound me, hubbie.” Viktor groaned, head off the couch, sending blood rushing to his head.

“You know as well as I do that there’s no chance of that happening with your ego in the way.” Yuuri commented dryly, leaning against the counter with a smirk.

“You have a special weapon.” Viktor protested, curling up and disturbing Makkachin, who leaped off with a ‘boof’.

“Which is?” Yuuri asked, opening the cabinets and grabbing two bowls.

“You’re my husband.” Viktor stated, rolling off the couch to face-plant onto the floor, picking himself up and sweeping the imaginary dust off of him.

“You do realize that we’ve only known each other for a day, right, Viktor?” Yuuri reminded him, setting two bowls filled to the brim with delicious looking fried rice.

“Doesn’t matter.” Viktor admitted, grabbing a bowl, and sitting down opposite of Yuuri.

“How is it?” Yuuri prompted, chopsticks paused mid air, reminiscent of Viktor’s questioning Yuuri about the risotto.

Viktor tasted it, chewing it thoughtfully as he judged the Yuuri creation.

He lit up like a Christmas bulb, heart mouth forming involuntarily.

“Vkusno!” he exclaimed, shoveling the rice into his mouth, exactly like Yuuri with his risotto.

And Yuuri had the same smug smirk.

“You like it, don’t you?” he asked, rubbing it into his face that Viktor was a sucker for Yuuri’s adorableness.

“Yesh.” Viktor agreed, mouth full and a grain of rice on the corner of his mouth.

Yuuri laughed at the sight, taking a picture.

Or maybe he was really recording the entire ordeal discreetly and firing off pictures to Instagram.

“Don’t you dare post that on Instagram,” Viktor threatened, and Yuuri laughed, apparently not intimidated.

He wasn’t intimidated by a pouting Viktor, pointing a spoon at him, and with rice on his lips.

“Or what?” Yuuri taunted, showing Viktor the screen of his phone.

The picture of Viktor with his mouth full was captioned, ready to be posted to the world.

“Or . . . I’ll. . .” Viktor paused.

“You’ll what?” Yuuri teased, eyes glinting with a challenge.

“I will sic Makkachin on you.” Viktor promised, pointing the fork at Yuuri.

Yuuri laughed, and that was an angelic sound and Viktor was in love love love-

“He loves me more than you.”

Viktor did not believe that one bit.

“Makka, sic him.” Viktor said, pointing at Yuuri.

Makkachin stayed still, batting a paw as if to say, ‘That’s ridiculous, Viktor.’

Yuuri chuckled.

“I told you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if i'll be able to write on the plane, so this is a just in case chapter.  
> Omg i have to stop making Viktor and Yuuri like me.  
> I love fried rice with a passion, and I couldn't resist.  
> Goddammit now I'm hungry.  
> UGh.  
> <3


	13. Where in the-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor . . . as in Viktor Nikiforov?

Yuuri was _not_ in the mood to wake up one bit.

But this stupid alarm was ringing-Viktor must’ve set it for himself, then forgotten to turn it off, which eventually woke Yuuri up later.

He felt oddly colder, but dismissed it for the lack of Viktor.

(And boy, was he _wrong._ )

Yuuri’s hand drifted to the left, rolling over so he could slap Viktor’s alarm off button, or better yet-unplug the damn thing.

Instead of Yuuri rolling over onto bed, Yuuri rolled over onto something else.

His face smacked into something very, _very,_ hard.

(And no, it wasn’t Viktor’s rock hard chest. The thing Yuuri rolled into was harder. Maybe Chris?)

But Chris wasn’t even here, he should’ve been back in- something fell on Yuuri’s face.

He blearily opened his sleep-inertia-pulled-down eyes and was met with a never ending expanse of white, grey, and black.

Wait a moment.

Oh. That was a poster.

( _Ahem._ Yuuri knew that.)

Yuuri pulled it off his face, wincing at the sudden brightness. He hissed at it, squinting.

Was it just him, or did his eyes seem able to see better?

His eyes focused-or at least as much as they could- on the _wall_ in front of him.

There shouldn’t have _been_ a wall here.

And as far as Yuuri knew, he wasn’t in a hotel, since he clearly remembered going to sleep in Viktor’s flat with Viktor and Makkachin and not really _sleeping._

Then Yuuri saw them.

_All of them._

Overlapping each other, covering the wall fully without any blank spaces showing.

Posters, upon posters, upon _posters_ of Viktor Nikiforov, his _husband_ , who made fun of these very posters when he was in Hasetsu for Yuuri.

Yuuri’s eyes widened to the size of saucers.

(No, no, _no. This could_ not _be happening for real._ )

Unless he was still dreaming,-which he had to be, since this _wasn’t happening-_ he had to be back in his Detroit apartment shared with Phichit.

Yuuri listened for the tell-tale sound of Phichit’s hamsters squeaking about in their huge cage, which was bought courtesy of Phichit caring for his pets.

Unless Yuuri was deaf as well as blind, he was back in the past, for real.

He reached over for his glasses, which were a last test to see if they were where they were always when he was in this time.

Yuuri’s glasses were on his nightstand, next to his old alarm clock and water bottle.

It was real. His glasses were thinner.

There was a wall of Viktor posters, and Yuuri looked to the right to check if there were-yup. Phichit’s posters were there, clear as day.

Yuuri was in the past.

Roughly about possibly three years before today, maybe?

His posters suggested that it was April.

Or would it be the future, now that he was in the _past_ and his timeline was in the _future?_

Whatever.

Yuuri sat up, putting on his glasses and observing his surroundings.

Three years ago, indeed.

(Thank you alarm clock, for displaying the date.)

“Phichit-kun?” he called out, testing the waters.

“Yeah?” an answer came shooting back. Yuuri sighed in relief, his shoulders sagging.

“I have a problem.” Yuuri said, which was true.

Too true.

(If suddenly being transported into the past wasn’t a problem-nothing was then.)

“If it’s drugs, then sweetie, then I can’t help you. But, I have a feeling that I can help you though.” Phichit came walking into their shared room, wiping his presumably wet hands with a towel.

He raised an eyebrow, taking Yuuri in slowly.

Phichit nodded.

(Yuuri had never felt this judged before, not even at his first Grand Prix, which he failed miserably at.)

“What happened?” Phichit asked, probably thinking nothing was out of the ordinary.

(Lucky him.)

“What year is it?” Yuuri answered Phichit’s question with one of his own.

(Phichit must’ve thought Yuuri was crazy.)

Phichit looked like the roof had collapsed, and the sky above them was green and raining diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” he said, cupping a hand to his ear in a way to hear better.

“What’s the year?” Yuuri repeated, slowly and enunciating all of the words slowly and clearly.

“The year . . .” Phichit echoed, staring dumbfounded at Yuuri. He suddenly refocused on Yuuri.

Phichit moved forward and poked Yuuri in the forehead, hard.

Yuuri blinked.

(He also scowled.)

“What did you do that for?” he complained. “All I asked for was the year, not for you to steal a gem.”

Phichit was still looking at Yuuri like he had sprouted horns and a tail, had green skin, and was declared legally insane by a psychiatrist.

(Which Yuuri was none of the above, thank you very much.)

“You’re a time traveler, aren’t you?” Phichit mused, eyes glinting with curiosity and mischief.

Yuuri scoffed. “No . . .” he lied, though he hesitated.

“You hesitated.” Phichit pointed out, “Oh my _god._ You _are_ a time traveler Yuuri. Probably from the future, since you knew my name and all. What year are you from? How many followers do I have on Instagram? Twitter? Tumblr?” Phichit was now bombarding Yuuri with unnecessary questions, to Yuuri’s extreme distaste.

Oh well.

“I’m from 2017. And I don’t know the rest of the answers to your questions, sorry.” Yuuri said, racking his brain for something important.

Right.

Viktor.

“What about Viktor?” Yuuri asked, trying to get his priorities sorted the best he could at the moment.

Phichit’s face creased in confusion.

(Uh oh.)

 Viktor . . . As in Viktor Nikiforov?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hides from hate comments saying that I'm fucking late, which I know*  
> Yes, I know this was so fucking delayed.  
> BUt i'm so guilty for it.  
> BUt it's not my fault  
> blame my mom  
> ANyway.  
> I'm gonna be adding the thrown in to the past Yuuri and Viktor too  
> AND LET THE FUN BEGIN  
> And click [me](https://mylaptopisforeverstolenbymymom.tumblr.com/post/162113054625/okayread-cry-for-desperate-help) for an explanation as to why I was late.  
> But sorta cliffhanger?  
> I live on comments and kudos, so sustain me for more chappies!  
> <3


	14. lets end this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read with caution.   
> If you're too lazy to do that, then i wont be updating any of my works anymore because my mom is an asshole.

Hi, guys. 

It's Cheyenne here. 

So recently I have not been posting chapters and whatnot because of one thing: 

My laptop is gone. 

And I really mean gone.  

So please don't expect updates for anything. 

I'm really sorry about this, since I have no fucking  _idea_ even why my mom took away my laptop. 

And of **course** she had to do it when I just barely lost in an international competition that cost a lot to go to and ended up losing by two places.

My laptop is one of the few things that I had value for, since I could read and write and be able to communicate with my friends. 

I'm not in a very good state of now, what with my laptop getting taken away and other personal events that weren't the best for me. 

Both of my parents are homophobic and it stressed me out a lot to write _gay_ fanfiction while they would disapprove immensely, be pan and an asexual when they want me to get married to a man and have children. 

My dad literally threw away the YOI drawings that my friend had made for _me_  to enjoy and admire, and it broke my heart when he did that since those drawings are something that I love.

My mom is no less.

She's not letting me to even have an Instagram. Because I'm apparently a _child_. 

The only **reason**  I _have_  Instagram is to keep in touch with my friends. 

Oh, but when its convenient they'll say that I'm _mature_  and I'm not a child anymore and I need to do things right. 

Obviously. 

I know that my parents are looking out for me, but they have no excuse for taking away my laptop for no reason and not letting me have social media. 

It's the goddamn _summer_ , for heavens sake!  

Am I not allowed to have a break? 

Writing fanfiction was always something to enjoy and my parents scorned it, and it's hard now to type three letters on the family laptop, because I know it has no place in my parents worlds. 

I'm expected to be a doctor, since I'm good at science and math, but the only reason I'm _good_  at it is because I don't want to spend more time doing it when I could be writing. The expectation is not only from my parents, but from my friends to my friends' parents. 

I love the arts and want to pursue a career in writing, but apparently according to my parents that's going to get me nowhere in the world. It's suffocating to be in a situation like mine. 

I also want to point something out, since it's become a pattern in my life. 

Last week, I was in a ship for a one day cruise and was sitting on the deck, writing. An old man can up to me and said that I was incredible to be sitting and writing and not on my phone. We talked for a little while, his friend coming up and joiningus. When I told him that I wanted to become an author, he said that I was going to go very far in my life, regardless of my career choice. He didn't believe it when I admitted that I didn't have a phone, saying that I was a unique individual that was well beyond her years. 

Anyway, long story short, he was the first person in my life to tell me that. 

Not even my parents said that. 

I was crying from disbelief inside, because I'd never heard that before. 

Every single person tells me that I'll get wasted if I persue writing, and this _utter stranger_  told me that I'd do well no matter what.

A couple months ago, I ran into another person in Barnes and Nobles, and he told me that I was very good at math but was taught the wrong things. 

My parents only mention math when my grade dips down into a 95.

Again, a stranger told me things that my parents have never said. 

I'm very confused as to why that's happening. 

Anyway, I wanted to say that I probably won't be posting at all, and I'm overridden with guilt from it. 

Bye. 

-Cheyenne


	15. I do.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's good for washing dishes while Viktor hates it with all of his soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMFS guys i'm cryin from all the kind messages i got from my rant.  
> Oh my heart.  
> Thank you, _all of you_ for taking time out of your day to say those things, I really appreciated them.  
>  <3

Viktor was looking through his phone for:

One: His and Yuuri’s programs for the coming season before Yakov noticed that they didn’t know them tomorrow and proceed to murder them.

Two: Anything he had to know for their trip to Paris to visit his family next week. Viktor would have to give a rough education on the French and his family to Yuuri.

Three: Time traveling stories to explain what had happened to him and Yuuri.

Currently, Viktor had only found out the first two things, and the third was painfully unable to find.

He’d looked everywhere; occult sites, some shady spam blogs, unpredictable Wikipedia, anime sites, and more.

He’d looked _everywhere._

And risked getting his phone taken over by nasty little viruses.

Currently, Yuuri was washing the dishes, a task that Viktor _hated_.

Honestly, Viktor felt bad for his dishwasher by always using it.

Even when he was younger, Viktor despised the the thought of washing dishes.

Hated the way that sometimes slimy food would just brush against his hand like Satan was caressing his hand softly with a piece of slimy, slimy, food..

Yuuri was Viktor’s savior.

But unfortunately, Viktor couldn’t be Yuuri’s savior.

He had no idea whether he could prepare Yuuri for the onslaught of craziness of his family.

Viktor would have to make that up by showing Yuuri his skating programs.

Very well.

Yuuri walked into the living room, flopping on the couch, and his head landed on Viktor’s lap.

“Blech.” he said, faking dead.

Viktor looked down at him, raising an eyebrow.

“What happened now?”

“Your dishes.” Yuuri responded, throwing an arm over his eyes, acting like a dramatic Viktor.

“They’re not so bad.” Viktor said, trying to defend his dishes, although he really wasn’t qualified to do so, as he never bothered to wash his dishes himself.

“They are.” Yuuri insisted, zombie-like.

“What’s so bad about them?”

“It’s not your dishes, it’s the fact that you don’t refill your dishwashing liquid in the dispenser.” Yuuri said, flicking his hand to get water all over Viktor’s face.

“What is it with you and spraying me with water?” Viktor complained, wiping the droplets off with a huff.

“You have no right to complain. I stuffed the rest of the dishes in the dishwasher, but you’re going to have to turn it on and press the buttons since I can’t read Russian to save my life.” Yuuri said.

Viktor nodded, unlocking his phone to finish reading that article on Tumblr that he’d found.

“What are you doing?”

Viktor looked down to a pouting Yuuri.

“Viktor . . .” Yuuri drew out his name, leading to Viktor setting down his phone and looking down at Yuuri questioningly.

“Yes?”

“Our skating programs. What are we going to do? I don’t know all of the jumps future me did and both of us have no idea about our programs this year.”

Viktor grinned, not unlike the Cheshire Cat.

“I have them.”

Yuuri shot up, his face a mask of relief,

“You do?”

Viktor nodded smugly.

“I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been waiting for me to continue for weeks now.  
> Ugh.  
> My tumblr is right [ here](www.mylaptopisforeverstolenbymymom.tumblr.com) if you want to find me!  
> <3


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